The Good Left Undone
by Doppler Effect
Summary: Before the Promised Day, the Elric brothers found a possible solution to their predicament. But the attempt put Alphonse into a coma, and sent Edward on a search to wake him up. Aziraphale suggested a solution. AU
1. The Good Left Undone

a/n: YES! I got this DONE! This has been waiting with just the first author's note in my folder. I really wanted to type it though, so I made sure it stayed in there. And now, it's complete. Hah! Yes! Tsuki posting her song fics kinda kicked me into writing it, so thank her in your review. (And you will review if you liked it, won't you? Or that would not be equivalent exchange.)

Did I just manage a serious fic with Good Omens? Yes, I apparently did. I'm sorry, I didn't want to do that to Al! Believe me! And he's okay now! So... *hides*. It gets more funny when the GO characters make their appearance I promise! Believe me!

I don't own either series, and I don't own the song. Rise Against owns 'The Good Left Undone', Fullmetal Alchemist by Hiromu Arakawa, and Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

* * *

><p>Scattered clouds passed by overhead. The teen sprawled on the park bench watched them pass, examining the light orange and pink hues for time. The sun wasn't visible from where he lay, but some of its rays streaked through the trees. His legs fell over the arm of the bench, and his head rested against the opposite side. His face was hidden in shadow, and it seemed to not only be a simple effect of nature but also a symbol.<p>

The oldest Elric waited. He had no access to any sort of internet outside of the nearest library, which didn't open for another half hour. Places in this time had morals in their system, which didn't allow him to join in to anything like the military where he could get information. He understood it, but didn't like it. In the mean time, he had to deal with the public methods of information.

Luckily, the librarian seemed to have a soft spot for him. They had a microwave they let him use, and an empty bowl of ramen sat on the ground next to him.* He'd taken money from his bank accounts back home and transferred it into pounds. He was running on that supply, which thankfully had not even reached the halfway mark in depletion. Until he had discovered a solution or died trying, he would not return home.

_"Ed..."_

_"If you called me in here for some heart-to-heart talk, I'm leaving."_

_"You look like shit, you're not eating, and everyone's worried about you."_

_"That's it, I'm gone."_

_Something was pushed forward across the desk._

_"Take a look at this. You might be able to find something here. They've got more advanced technology. Maybe they can wake someone out of a coma."_

_An awkward pause. He hesitated by the door for a few more seconds, before turning around and taking the stack of papers. He sifted through them for a few seconds. _

_"This..."_

_"Might work?"_

_"How did you get this? Even if you did, I doubt you're allowed to show me this."_

_"That's why I'm not."_

_"Hm. Thanks."_

_"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. See you when you get back."_

_He started to turn away again. He made it to the door before the other spoke again. "Al's going to wake up, Ed."_

_"I hope so too."_

_"Tch."_

_"What's with that tone?"_

_"The two of you used to be on top of the world. Don't let this stop you. You'll never hear the end of it from me if it does."_

_"Al used to not be in a coma!"_

_"He used to not be in a suit of armor either! But nothing lasts forever."_

_"Yeah. People die."_

_"He's not going to die before you find out how to help him, and he won't die before you get back. We'll see to that back here."_

_"...sorry..."_

_"Go on. You got work to get done. The sooner it's over with, the sooner I can say 'I told you so'." _

He smiled, still reminiscing. He supposed he would have to admit that fact when he returned, but he'd be sure to make it as quick as possible. He supposed he'd have to thank him too...

Now, now, let's not stray into fiction here.

Edward gave a small smile, and sat up. He pulled his legs towards him, and looked around him. He'd lived in the park for the last few months, not bothering with any sort of temporary home. It wasn't important to him, and he needed that money for food. He didn't know how long he'd be there before he got a lead.

The country he'd found himself in was beautiful. It was cold, and that aggravated his false limbs, but it was still a good place to be stuck at for the time being. He'd learned a bit of English, and whilehe knew it was occasionally rough he could get by. He was even picking up a bit of an accent. The language was hell however. It contradicted itself thousands of times, and the only way to become fluent in it seemed to be if you were born learning it, and even then you had to work at it.

He hated it.

He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be sleeping on park benches. He didn't want to be relying on money that could run out before he was done. He didn't want to be relying on a public source of information for research that could determine his brother's life. He didn't want to be cut off from properly looking into the medical field because they didn't think he should be worrying about anything other than school work or living a normal teenage life.

He wanted to be back home. He wanted to be among people who took him seriously. He wanted his worries to be on things other than getting by in the future or his lack of resources. Most of all, he wanted Al to be awake and alright. But wanting wouldn't make it happen.

After all their searching and scavenging, the brothers had come across a way to get their bodies back. Ecstatic, they had spent a month pouring over every detail of it, checking and rechecking what they had, desperate to know they had finally accomplished their goal. After the first few weeks, sure they had fooled everyone into thinking they were still looking up any sort of idea. They didn't want to give false hope when they weren't sure yet.

Their secrecy had been thrown to the wolves when Breda and Falman had showed up one day outside the room they'd been using for research and dropped off pizza with wishes of good luck. The brothers had simply exchanged looks, one amused and one irritated but secretly also amused. Even before the door had shut behind the adults, they had returned to their work.

When they had finally felt every inch had been devoured and searched of their idea, they had finally felt ready to give it a try. They had spent an entire day discussing who they would try it on first. Obviously, they wanted the other to get their bodies back first, and not waste another second in their current state. However, despite the month spent assuring themselves all would be well, they still worried about it.

Ed rubbed his head. He glanced down. The ramen bowl was holding down a stack of papers, all of the research he had been able to gather about comas and getting people out of them. The main problem he had come across was that the field he needed for this was medical, not alchemical. He was in the wrong field. Dark rings were under his eyes, and they had been there so long the thought occurred to him that they might be permanent. He'd poured over those papers for nights on end. He wasn't even sure when the last time was that he'd gone to sleep on purpose.

The sleepless nights had started immediately upon his arrival, but he hadn't consciously started avoiding sleep until after the nightmares started. If he stayed awake long enough that his body was forced to sleep, he couldn't remember anything he dreamed of when he woke back up. Several times he had awoken in a reminder of what he was forgetting. They'd also created some unwanted side effects. He'd gotten sick twice, and he didn't want to know how many times he'd hallucinated. Once anything started noticeably affecting his reality, he always put his head to the pillow immediately. That almost never happened within the first few days, days which actually amused him. His fingers always felt tingly, and he seemed really light.

After a full night of sleep, he observed all this and pondered over whether he was still sane or not.

Whatever the case, he would solve this problem before he returned home. When Al could walk the world with him again, watch the world, laugh with it, and talk with it, he would find himself in Amestris again. He would leave this world behind with no regrets.

After the transmutation, Alphonse's body had appeared. They had planned that. With a grin, Edward had rushed forward to tell him it worked. They had finally done what they had set out to do. They could return to Risembool now, without the military supporting them in their quest.

His words fell on deaf ears. His brother was alive, but he never woke up. Word leaked out, and friends of theirs from across the country passed through the hospital room. Their mournful words and attempts to help only strengthened the elder brother's resolve. A few weeks after the transmutation, when he was sure his kin would not be waking up, he left the hospital in search for a way to make it happen.

It was past time to redo the transmutation and set everything back to the way it was, but he could put things right. He launched into his research, going back over everything again to find a reason for what had happened. After he found that he would have a better chance of finding a cure.

Time does tell. He had to admit that Al wasn't in a coma as an effect of the transmutation, but simply because of medical reasons. His body had suddenly been thrown back into the world, and he hadn't slept in a long time. Something like this had been bound to happen. But he still needed Al to wake up.

Mustang had given him the papers for the other world. He didn't know what Mustang had done to explain his disappearance, and he still didn't know what he had done to be able to get a hold of the papers and give them to Ed, however discreetly he did the last bit. He would have to find out when he got back. The alchemist had departed to find a way to wake up his brother, not looking back until he was ready to return.

* * *

><p><em>Ploop.<em>

Aziraphale sighed. "Let the poor thing up, dear. You've scared him enough times."

The duck resurfaced, quacking with a vengeance. It flapped its wings and, still quacking, flew off to the trees. Most likely to file a complaint and warning in the duck suggestion box about the man with the ten tons of bread.

"Bless it, someone took our park bench," Crowley muttered, glancing across the pond at a bench they regularly sat at. A teen was sitting on it, and narrowly avoided being stampeded by the angry in-flight duck. He looked after it in surprise, and then returned his attention to the pond.

"Leave him be. He's been here quite often recently."

"Then we should let him know that we always sit there."

"No need. He leaves as soon as the library opens."

Crowley looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Of course you would know that." The angel smiled. He glanced back at the teen. "Hm, know what happened to him? Something bad. I can feel it from over here. Can't know specifics without asking though."

He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth.

Aziraphale was nodding. "Yes, I'm thinking of asking him to see if there's anything I can do. It seems not, but it doesn't hurt to ask." Even as he spoke, he was starting to walk towards the park bench.

Crowley put his head in hands. "I'm so stupid," he muttered, and then followed after.

"Crowley?"

"Yes?" he answered with a defeated sigh.

"Please do not upset him anymore than he already is."

"So, do you want me to stand back a few miles?"

"No, just don't upset him."

A minute later, Aziraphale was coming to a stop by the park bench. As per request, Crowley stood a ways back so as to not let anything rub off on the teen. "Excuse me?" he said to be polite. The blond was already looking at him, interested in the sudden presence of the two. "You've been here for a few days, and we're a bit worried. You shouldn't be sleeping outside, you'll get sick."

* * *

><p>This was certainly a strange turn in events. He did need to get back to looking over what information he had, but something seemed to be stopping him from asking them to leave. It was different from his usual routine, and mildly amusing. "Yeah, I've gotten sick twice," he replied, "but I'm fine." Thinking about Al so much must be making his brother's attitude rub off on him. He ignored the thought, and decided he was just doing this because they might go away faster. "Thanks for thinking about it, but you don't have to."<p>

"Everyone has to take care of everyone," the man responded.

"Why?" A hint of his usual tone seeped through there.

Behind him, the other man was wordlessly getting his point across to Ed, pointing at his friend. 'His idea, not mine. Don't ask.'

Ed smiled slightly in response to the amusing gestures, and the first man seemed to catch on without having to ask. He looked up for a second, as if mourning the stupidity of his friend in a movement of exasperation, but instead of pulling off that attitude it seemed to mean something different.

"We're all here together, aren't we?"

"I guess so. People usually don't stop and talk to each other like this either," Edward pointed out.

"He always does," Crowley sighed as a response.

Supposedly taking a shot in dark, Ed guessed, the man glanced at the papers and asked, "Research?"

"Yeah." Something about the man's aura was seriously putting him off today. Maybe he was sick again? That would really suck. "My brother's in a coma. I want to find a way to get him out."

The first man paused. The one behind him ducked his head, and Ed thought he could hear an exasperated, "Not again," come from him.

"Aziraphale." The man stuck his hand out.

Ed shook it, a bit surprised. "Ed."

The last one gave a small wave. "Crowley. We won't be going to the Ritz, will we?"

"Not now, no." Aziraphale stood up. He pulled Ed to his feet with their still clasped hands. He let go when the teen took his feet. "I think there's a better way of waking up your brother than sleeping on a park bench and using the local library for research." Ed raised a questioning eyebrow, but didn't receive any response. All the same, he followed after the interesting pair, after stopping to drop off the bowl and taking the papers with him.

* * *

><p><em>'I think I need to sleep. Maybe I <em>am_ sleeping?' _Ed pondered to himself. Some sort of curiosity had sparked within him, and he had actually agreed to showing the two where Al was. He was still debating with himself on whether it was weariness or desperation forcing his actions. They walked through the streets of Amestris, and the opposites took great interest in their surroundings.

"That way," Edward directed, nodding towards the street they needed to turn on.

"Ah. Thank you." Aziraphale turned the corner, Crowley following dejectedly, and Edward with caution. The time was just right, where not many people were out who were still awake and not sleep-walking. "And fourth floor you said?"

"Room 406, yes," Ed said. He briefly pondered if, now that he was back, should he stop in and pull some friends along with him? But no, he still wasn't sure what was going on with these two. They really made a strange pair, and seemed to balance each other out perfectly.

His assumptions that this was a dream started to gain the upper hand as a mailbox exploded. The two looked at each other.

"Um."

"That wasn't me."

"I don't think I did it either."

"If it helps, our mail system always makes terrible time and has been known for making mistakes," Edward supplied.

"But it blew up the mail _box_..."

The two shrugged.

"What's your idea?" Ed asked, trying to steer the conversation onto a reasonable lane. Aziraphale smiled, and told him. He nodded thoughtfully, and smiled.

* * *

><p>Pinako looked up as Winry passed through the kitchen. She carried a bag over her shoulder, and looked to be moving on a spur of the moment idea. She had been staying for the week to visit, and would be heading back to her apprenticeship in a few days.<p>

"Heading back already?" the grandmother asked.

Winry paused from grabbing a roll out of the basket. "Sorta... I don't know why, but I got up this morning and.. I want to go to Central to visit Al." Pinako raised her eyebrows. "Sorry, but I told my teacher that I'd be back on Sunday, so I have to cut my visit short."

Pinako nodded. "I'll be right down in five minutes."

"Huh?"

"I'm coming with you."

* * *

><p>"What brings you so far out here?" Izumi asked the three Xingese sitting across from her in surprise.<p>

"Hm?" One of them looked over. "Here in particular or Amestris in general?"

"Those are different answers?"

"Yeah. I'm on this train in particular to visit a friend of mine. I'm in Amestris because I'm looking for the way to immortality."

Izumi cocked her head. "Does that have something to do with the dying king?"

"Right. What're you two doing here?"

"We were heading back home after a trip, but we decided to stop by and see one of my apprentices. I don't know where his brother is," she added in a growl, "but I know I'm going to kill him when he gets back."

The Xingese teen laughed in surprise. "You know, I'm heading to see a brother, and I don't know where his older brother is. Are your apprentices alchemists by any chance?"

Izumi smiled. "You know those idiots? Any idea where Ed ran off to?"

"Not a clue. I don't think anyone knows."

* * *

><p>Breda poked Falman, waking him up. Falman stretched, and then leaned back over his paperwork with a sigh. Havoc put his pen to his paper and yelled, as much of an attitude booster for everyone else as for him, "<em>THOU SHALT BE DONE**!<em>"

"I hate paperwork," Mustang sighed to the agreement of the others.

All paperwork in the room simultaneously blew up into dust.

Everyone looked at each other. Then they looked at Mustang.

"I didn't do _anything_, I swear."

"Colonel..."

"I'm serious!"

Major Armstrong came into the room at that second. "Reporting for duty!" he exclaimed.

"You rang?" Hughes said behind him, unseen. "Needed something about communications to this weird world we found?"

"Yeah..." Mustang replied, only half paying attention. He was still examining the remains on his desk. Breda crouched beside his own spot, and ran his fingers through the dusty substance on his desk.

The two entered the room, and Hughes immediately went to one of the desks to examine the strange dust on it. "Woah! Go a bit overboard, eh***?"

"I didn't do anything!" Mustang said, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation.

"I'm sure. This looks cool," Hughes said, pushing some of it into a pile. He let it through his fingers, flowing onto the desk and off it.

"You're cleaning that up," Hawkeye reminded.

Hughes winced. "We might as well throw it all over the place then!"

"Do that and you won't make it out the door for the next week, and will be stuck here finishing all the paperwork this used to be. That goes for the rest of you too. Don't you dare!" she snapped at Mustang as he moved to drop a clump of it out the window.

"But!"

"Forensics will want a look at it."

He sighed, but dropped it back on his desk.

"So," Hughes said, dropping into a vacant seat, "looks like we've got a bit of free time, eh? Before they make copies anyway."

Hawkeye didn't protest, and everyone else visibly relaxed in relief.

A few words of humor and irritation were exchanged over the usual, and they caught up on what everyone had going on. Havoc had been dumped by yet another girlfriend, and Hughes announced to everyone his daughter had grown an inch.

Then the conversation made a turn ironic for what had just happened. "Heard from Ed?" Hughes quietly asked.

While he'd never told anyone, they had made guesses about their absent friend's whereabouts. "No," the alchemist responded, just as quiet. "Haven't heard a word since he walked out the door after I showed him the alchemical array for it."

"That sounds like the kid." Hughes nodded.

"If we dropped in on him to make sure he was okay, do you think he would kill us?" Breda said, speaking everyone's thoughts aloud.

"He might bash our heads in," Falman responded.

"I think that would kill us," Armstrong pointed out.

"Most likely, yes."

"Besides, he could be anywhere over there," Mustang said with a sigh. "We wouldn't know where to start, since we don't know where he started either. Or where he's been going with what he's learned."

"Hmm..." Hughes thoughtfully pondered.

Ever since the paperwork had exited from its state of being, a odd feeling had befallen all of them. The urge to go do something. Not particularly something active, or something illegal, but something. Armstrong was the first to put a finger on it.

"Let's go visit his brother," the baritone said softly.

No one argued, and when someone came in to pick up the dust samples and ask for a report on what was missing, he found the room vacant.

* * *

><p>The three groups all bumped into one another at an intersection only a few blocks from the hospital. No one made any comment, but it had occurred to all of them that something else was at play here than just their own thoughts.<p>

They didn't even have to bother cramming anyone into the room. They ran across their sources of worry for the past few months outside on a park bench. Alphonse stared at the sky overhead, enjoying the air and sunlight. He didn't mind in the slightest the storm clouds coming in. Edward sat beside him, finally able to return home with victory.

The two were swamped in seconds.

About five minutes later, with the two sitting back in their original positions, but this time with newly forming cuts and bruises all over them, they were pestered and surrounded by friends and family. "Ow..." Ed moaned.

"Quit complaining," Izumi snapped. "Where the hell _were_ you! No one had a clue when you went off and vanished!"

"Mustang did," Ed muttered grumpily.

With the exception of his team, everyone rounded on him. Winry folded her arms. "Oh really now?"

Mustang shot a glare at his subordinate. "I had it narrowed down to a surface area of 510072000 square kilometers. I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you."

Ling shook Ed's shoulder. "So where were you?"

The words 'sleeping on a park bench' nearly came out of his mouth in his usual smart-ass attitude before he realized that would be the wrong thing to say while surrounded by this particular group of people. If there had been about half as many of them gone, he might've risked saying it if his teacher had not been there, but as it was he was looking at murder.

"Well?" Winry demanded, tapping her wrench.

"Erm."

A few scattered rain drops saved him. Hughes held out his hand. "Hm. Better get inside. There's a bar right around the corner-"

"Minors!" Pinako shouted at him.

Mustang rolled his eyes. "Across the street from it there's a restaurant that's usually vacant. We can all stop in there."

Following their relocation, the conversation moved to another important question. With a main table, in which the story tellers had been forced into, in the center, other scattered chairs and dragged-over tables circled them. They still had to speak loudly, but it wasn't cramped. The waiters and waitresses were shooed away, and, as predicted, they were the only people there.

"How'd you figure it out?" Hughes asked.

"Figure what out?" Al looked around at everyone.

It was then that they realized Edward had probably not gotten around to telling him that he'd been in a coma for months. Said person seemed to be regretting that now. A few people gave uncomfortable coughs before Al finally got the message from picking up enough from the mutters that a few others gave.

"What?"

"You wouldn't wake up," Ed said quietly, but sitting next to him, Al could hear it. "You were alive, body and soul, but you were stuck in a coma. We couldn't wake you up."

"Oh," Al breathed. "So, why _am_ I awake?"

Ed hesitated for a second, before saying, "I don't know."

"Then how did you know to return home?" Ling pointed out.

He shrugged. "Don't know. Just felt like I should."

Hawkeye frowned. "We felt like we were supposed to go visit Alphonse after the paperwork spontaneously combusted too."

"When the paperwork _what_?"

"Sig and I had the same thing happen to us," Izumi agreed.

"Pinako and I had that feeling too..." Winry trailed off.

"Same here," Ling added. "What's going on with that?"

"Whatever woke Alphonse up probably pulled us all towards him," Mustang inferred.

"Maybe you all did." They all looked at him. "I only woke up once you all decided to come visit me. Maybe you all doing that at the same time made we wake up or something." Al shrugged sheepishly. "I don't know, just a thought."

He glanced at his brother when he said, "Sounds right. Not like something could've called everyone together without talking to them." Only Al's trained eye was able to see that his brother was keeping something out of what he had said, but was proud of Al for having deduced as much as he had.

"But..." Al frowned. "I did see this in the hospital room. I grabbed it while we were leaving..." He lifted up what he had carried out, twirling it in his light hold. A pure white feather gleamed in the soft dim of the restaurant's lights. It was long, almost as long as Al's arm, and could not be from any bird any of them could name.

Armstrong voiced the opinion that went through the alchemists' minds. "A chimera, maybe?"

"No."

They all turned at the unexpected voice. Van Hohenheim walked in, water dripping out of his hair, eyes focused on the feather. "That's not a feather from a chimera." He looked at all of them. "Sorry I got here late."

Ed's eyes narrowed at the sight of him.

"There was no set time we were all supposed to be here at," Pinako said.

Hohenheim shook his head. "Aziraphale wanted us all here at about the same time. Alphonse, your theory is right. He couldn't directly influence you without bringing unwanted attention to yourself, but he could do something smaller to cause your mind to think it was safe enough to wake up. Also," he said, smiling, "he probably thought you would want to see everyone when you woke up."

"Who's Aziraphale?" Falman asked.

"Oh screw it," Ed muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "You've met him before?"

"I left because the sides he and Crowley support needed to speak with someone from over here," he explained. "There were some arguments about who got what territory, and the three heads refused to go down and fix everything themselves, so they sent representatives."

"What sides?" Mustang demanded. "Who are they?"

"It took you that long to get back?" Edward demanded.

"They never told me how to," he sighed. Ed rolled his eyes, but he seemed to take that as a good answer.

"You're talking about the other world," Hawkeye realized. "How did you get over there if you didn't know the array?"

Ed snorted. "They don't exactly believe in equivalent exchange over there."

The lights went out as thunder boomed.

"How long do you think that's going to take to come back on?" Hughes asked after a few seconds of silence with no flickers.

"It won't be coming back on for a long time, I'm guessing," Ed sighed.

"We have something called backup power," Mustang reminded him.

Edward rolled his eyes again, even though no one could see it in the dark. "He took out those too. He's been doing this for a long time, he won't be making mistakes like that now. This is an example of their equivalent exchange, however limited it is. Aziraphale helps wake Al up, Crowley takes out the electricity."

"_Who are they_?" Izumi demanded.

"They're-" He broke off. "Oh shit." He smacked his head against the table. "They can't get back. Okay, I'll be right back in a second. Forgot about them. Whoops..." He swung out of his chair, and slipped through the group of people.

"Oi! Ed! Some explanation would be nice!"

"Not now!"

"Oh, I want to meet these people," Mustang said, following him out the door.

"I want explanations!" Ling agreed, following him.

The group never did meet these odd people, and Ed slipped away from them long enough to find the pair and send them home with an apology for being late and his thanks. Several times a year he would leave, and the rest of them assumed he visited the mysterious duo. They were right.

* * *

><p><em>{All because of you, I haven't slept in so long<br>When I do I dream of drowning in the ocean  
>Longing for the shore where I can lay my head down<br>Inside these arms of yours _

_All because of you, __I believe in angels,  
><em>_Not the kind with wings, n__o, not the kind with halos  
><em>_The kind that bring you home, w__hen home becomes a strange place  
><em>_I'll follow your voice, all you have to do is shout it out}_

Even so, the wings and halos type are welcome still.

* * *

><p>an: *My family doesn't have to worry about me getting into drugs or alcohol. My addiction is ramen, and always will be. Why would I need anything else?

**Rights to my uncle. He said it first. That's how I felt when typing this though.

***That's right. Hughes...is Canadian.

My computer went into a weird mode, and I can't get it out. It's typing in Japanese. I'm not joking. But I can't get it out. It's using Latin characters right now, but it's typing weirdly. (Miyuki, I figured out how to make the characters work!)

Not sure how I felt about this story. What'd you think? (Remember, equivalent exchange!)


	2. Architects

a/n: This is the last part. I said it was complete after the first chapter in case this one didn't end up being posted. Yes, I had this planned. Sneaky bitch, right here.

This chapter's based off the song 'Architects', also by Rise Aagainst. The 'they' in the song goes from the Amestrian higher ups to the ones Up There and Down There for this fic. I don't like how the mood of the song is different from the mood of this chapter, but the irony makes it work.

* * *

><p>The Father stared, dumbfounded. Nothing was happening.<p>

_Nothing was happening._

Years of planning and research, pushing all the pieces into place, and now that the time had come, nothing. Was. Happening.

What could possibly have gone wrong?

His five sacrifices started lashing out, struggling to break his firm grip on them. He held them down, running over everything and anything that could be out of place. He didn't have long to get it sorted out and to fix it. Yet try as he might, nothing came to mind that could be causing the problem. Pride, from his expression, looked to be doing the same, thinking heavily on this. They wouldn't have another chance like this for a long time; they needed to make it work now.

The Father glanced at Hohenheim. He seemed just as puzzled as they did, not prideful in having performed a counterattack. After examining the other four faces as well, they provided no suggestion either. Greed, his son, and the young Xingese girl and her panda looked just as confused, but all three were setting it aside in favor of using their small chance as it had appeared.

"What happened? What did you do?" he asked no one in particular, further watching them. "Why does God not bow before me?"

"He's a bit busy at the moment. They all are. Well, I mean, the three Big People, if you follow me..." Crowley said, appearing from some opening into the circular room. None of them had noticed his entrance. "Hey, I recognize you..." He peered at Edward for a moment, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you probably would," he dryly responded.

"You two have met?" Izumi asked, looking between the two. "And who are you?" she demanded of the newcomer.

"Eh..." Crowley said, starting to respond. "It's take too long to explain," he decided. Before any of them processed what he was doing, he stepped into the rough ring in which the Father stood, and proceeded to shove him out with one hand. "Scoot. Move. Scram. Go do... whatever you're doing somewhere else." He looked around at all of them, and then at Ed. "What _are_ you doing?"

"Being sacrificed."

"Ah. Charming. Hobby of yours?"

"Not really, no."

"Is this a Mayan thing with the gods and eclipses or...?"

"He wants to be God," Edward explained with a jerk of his head towards the Father.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at the roughly human figure. "Trust me, you don't want to be God right now. They really don't like it when someone has to change their way, or are told that they can't do something."

"Who are you?" the Father demanded. Shadows from Pride were already snaking up around him, but Crowley either didn't know or didn't care. The latter seemed a lot more likely from the uncaring attitude he was sending out.

"The first time someone trusted you, we ended up with original sin," Edward reminded the demon.

"Yeah, there was that incident with the apple... But they would've eaten one anyway, I'll bet."

"Why isn't it working," the Father snarled.

"My guess is that you were trying to sacrifice humans, and you can't do that right now," Edward suggested.

"I can tell all of you are awfully busy with... being... sacrificed-do you need a hand with that? Not literally, of course, you understand what I mean-but we need this space..." Aziraphale said, walking up from the same direction Crowley had come in. "I do hope you remember what they told us..."

"Circle, square with a triangle on each corner except the top most, line down the center-"

"Half of a line!" every alchemist in the room corrected immediately.

Crowley scowled. "How do you know that? Is it important?"

"If you don't want to blow the city into the sky, then yes," Mustang answered.

"Fine. _Half_ line down the center, and something something something..." Crowley trailed off as he started scratching an alchemical array in the ground.

"No, no, no, clockwise!" Edward snapped as he started.

"Does it _matter_?"

"Yes!" the alchemists yelled.

"Do you want to do this?" Crowley shot back.

"If it means you aren't, then yeah!"

"Then why don't you!"

"I'm a bit tied up at the moment!"

Crowley huffed, and made a half-hearted wave.

He and Aziraphale were the only ones unphased when the Father and Pride dropped through the ground. Shadows reached out from the holes they dropped through, scrambling for a hold, but they fell off at the will of the demon. The five sacrifices were released, and they hastily got to their feet. Greed peered down one of the holes.

"Talk about going down the rabbit hole," he muttered.

"Now," Edward said, patting dirt off himself, "what are you two trying to get done?"

"We need to open a way for the Truth so he can get down here," Aziraphale explained.

The other five people blanched at him, but Ed and his father nodded calmly. "Ah. Confusion between boundaries, I assume?"

"To be specific, the souls. They're having arguments over who goes where. Sounds like some people were going where they weren't supposed to be," Aziraphale explained.

"Yeah, tha's wha I 'eard too," Adam said, leaning against one of the walls. None of them had noticed his entrance. Aziraphale waved. "They wanted a neutral party 'ere."

Crowley frowned. "I thought they put you under house arrested." Edward walked over to the circle, and started sketching down the rest of the array, erasing what Crowley had done. He muttered irritably about the demon's dilettante effort, correctly finishing it with movements flowing smoothly from years of practice. He didn't need the array anymore, but he would like to see it in something this complex. He could do without the Truth harassing him again.

Adam waved off Crowley's words. "Tha' didn' las' a day." Dog sat beside him, wagging his tail eagerly. He jumped up, and ran around his master in circles, sniffing the ground.

"I want an explanation," Mustang demanded.

Adam frowned. "Yer missin a bit a somethin' aren't you?"

Mustang blinked. Color returned.

Izumi's stomach convulsed. A sudden weight appeared inside.

Edward glanced at his left hand. Tan skin greeted him, not metal.

"Truth's not going to be happy with that..." Crowley said with a shrug.

Mei looked at the ground beneath their feet. "There's a strange, new flow underneath the ground now..."

"I would expect so," Hohenheim said with a nod. "Do you need the mortals out of here?" he asked.

"Hey, I'm not mortal!" Greed protested.

"Compared to them, you are," Edward disagreed.

"Yes, you seven should be leaving now. I don't expect the Voices that are being sent down and up would be all too happy with having you here, and your Truth won't be happy either," Aziraphale pointed out. "I'm sure no one will mind if you explain what's going on to them, so long as you do it somewhere else. By the way, do you have any good sushi restaurants around here?"

"Sorry, no. Nowhere close to the sea, and shipping isn't as fast over here as it is over there," Hohenheim explained. Aziraphale nodded sadly.

"Okay," Edward said, pushing his friends out the door with sweeping gestures of his hands. "We should probably get out of here before the Voices show up..." Mustang ground to a halt at those words. "What?"

"We're running from _voices_?"

" Put a 'the' before 'voices', and Voices is capitalized. They're the Voices of God and Satan."

Izumi held her ground. "I want answers. Start from the beginning," she snapped at her apprentice as the shortest started to say it was complicated.

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged glances. Adam sighed, and gave the significantly shortened version. "Well, 'n th beginnin', y'know, like when time started an' everythin'-"

"Not _that_ beginning!"

Aziraphale frowned, puzzled. "But that_ is_ the beginning of what you're asking about."

"Anyway, the angels came into being, an' sometime later there was that whole thing with the War-"

"The what?" Greed asked.

"Let him finish and I'll fill in the blanks later," Edward compromised, exasperated.

Adam nodded his thanks. "So you got the angels an' the demons." He pointed to Aziraphale. "He's an angel," the finger moved to Crowley, "an' he's a demon." The finger moved down to his dog. "This is Dog, who was apparently a Hellhound, an' I'm Adam. Was the Antichrist, but... it got kinda annoyin'."

"Speaking of which," Edward said, "how did the whole Armageddon thing turn out? Meant to stop by, but we were a bit busy with..." He gestured at the two holes in the ground. "...those guys..."

"Surprisingly well, for an apocalypse. I think they'll be back in a while, once they can figure out how to get back up here." At Ed's questioning look, he said, "We're stopping them from coming up this way. However, it's a possibility I blew them up. Well? What are you all still doing here?"

"Ah, and it's good to see you awake, Alphonse," the angel said. Al blinked, confused, but went along as his brother pulled him away with a knowing smile.

Aziraphale waved at them as they departed, each in their own puzzled thoughts. Edward waved back, grinning, before turning back around so he didn't walk into something. The group left from the way they'd come in, a silence descending on them. No one had dared voice their opinions yet, and Hohenheim and Edward waited in the calm before the storm, as they would be the ones answering the questions.

Someone walked around the corner, sidestepping the seven of them to avoid a collision. He looked at Hohenheim, pointing at the way they were coming from, and asked, "It's that way, right?"

"If you're all convening at the center of the country, than yes," the elderly man said with a nod. The Voice of God thanked him, and then passed the group. As soon as he was gone from sight, Hohenheim pondered aloud, "I wonder why they're all coming here out of anywhere else?"

"Center of alchemy?" Edward suggested. "Truth might have a better time materializing here."

"What do you suppose those two were doing here?"

"Well, it's not like either of the Voices were going to draw the array, were they?" Ed snorted.

Mustang spoke up for the group. "How do both of you know those two?"

Alphonse answered that, having come to the conclusion. He fingered the feather in his sleeve he had carried around since he had woken up, puzzling over the strange white object. "Aziraphale woke me up, didn't he? And Crowley took out the electricity that night."

Edward grinned, and their father nodded. "Wherever one goes, the other is usually not far away. They cancel each other out, you might say. If one does something bad to the place, the other does something good and vice versa. Also, I imagine they are the only people who can keep the other amused, as a result of them immortal beings of Heaven and Hell."

"I wouldn't say that," Ed disagreed. "Crowley was pretty amused by the string of people threatening to jump off the one bridge if the construction on a certain interstate didn't stop soon."

"For the most part, I mean."

"Let me get this straight," Greed said. "The pipsqueak disappeared off the face of the earth to go... somewhere, and wherever he went, he ended up meeting an angel and a demon."

"Right."

"And then the angel decided to wake his brother up, and the demon followed along because he wanted to wreak some havoc, which he did by taking out the electricity in the city. Ed sent them back home once their work was done."

"Yup."

"And he's been dropping in on them for a while to visit and say hi. And sometime recently they had Armageddon."

"Yeah. Anything else?"

"Yeah." To the others, he shouted, "_Am I the only one who finds this at least a little strange?_"

"Considering who's speaking, no. Overall, definitely," Izumi said. "The part I'm irritated apart..." Edward edged away, having known this was coming. "...is that none of us knew about this except for your father, who-no offense-has not been around for any of us to find him and speak with him about this!"

"Aziraphale and Crowley knew..."

"And how were we supposed to talk to them?" Mustang demanded.

"Well, you knew where I went..." Edward pointed out.

Eyes went to Mustang, who growled, "I was not allowed to speak to him about his destination, let alone anyone else."

"Then how does he know about it?" Izumi responded, folding her arms. Her oldest apprentice took this chance to look over his shoulder, watching for any fire or sounds that warned of something that a Biblical figure like those in the other room would not bat an eye at, but that would disintegrate any mortal.

"On paper, he still doesn't."

"This isn't over," Greed growled in Ed's ear.

"Definitely not. They'll move their frustrations back to me in a moment or two..." Edward trailed off at the same time both adults turned to look at him, having come to the same conclusion that he had.

"So. Anything else you need to tell us?" Izumi said, tapping her fingers on her crossed arms.

"Actually, why don't you just give us a full run down? So the next time someone pops up who knows you, you won't have an excuse to not have told us anything like this time," Mustang suggested, that irritating superior expression he had evident on his face.

Edward sighed in defeat. "Let's get above surface, and see if the other two Homunculi are still hanging around. If they are, and we successfully kick their asses, then I'll tell you."

"And if you try to escape, I will hunt you down and maim you until you can no longer walk straight, if at all," Greed cheerfully said. "Just keep that in mind."

* * *

><p>Three hours later, and Mustang had to leave the group to deal with the confusion that was ensuing. Greed gave way to Ling, who conferred with Mei quietly about the reign of their country. Izumi kept a firm eye fixed on Edward, stopping any attempts for escape. They met up with some friends as they scanned the area for signs of either Pride or the Father, and had to stop more than once to assure them they were alright.<p>

They came back across Mustang in their rounds, and Ling shot him the okay sign. He gave an almost imperceptible nod in return, and then continued his efforts in trying to explain the situation and dissuading anyone from going down into the center of Amestris. With luck on his side, he was busy enough trying to keep everyone back that he didn't have to come up with an excuse as to why they shouldn't go down, but unfortunately that was what was making them so eager to go.

"Some dumbass partially succeeded in becoming God, you twits," Edward shouted, letting his voice ring out. The protests started to die down, and people turned his way. He continued speaking even over a few others, saying, "He tried to make a sun in his hand to get rid of the rest of us," he gestured at himself, the other four sacrifices, and Mei and Ling, "but he made some mistake and created a black hole instead. Swallowed himself and his accomplice. Your souls returned to your bodies with their host gone, but the hole's still there. Go down if you want, but that's going to be one painful death on the other end."

Dead silence fell, and Edward gave the group of generals challenging looks, daring them to disagree. All the alchemists nearby could see several flaws in that reasoning, but didn't argue the point. With a few angry mutters, the generals' voices again grew but instead wanting a full run down on what had happened. The survivors of what had happened below waited, and Mustang managed to convince them all he would send a full report once they had gotten the calamity soothed out from its current state.

As they disbanded and scattered around to assist in getting everything sorted out, doing the jobs they should've been doing while they were arguing, Mustang walked over to the group with a sigh of relief. "That's over for now," he said. "Okay, if there's nothing else to do..."

"Colonel! Major!" somebody called, waving for the Flame and Fullmetal Alchemists. The first sighed again, but this one had a different meaning.

Hawkeye appeared, and shushed the shouter with a few words. A bandage had been wrapped around her neck, but she didn't show any signs of it hampering her ability to give order to chaos*. She strode over to them with quick steps, and with a single look demanded to know what had happened.

"It's a long story, and I still don't know what happened," Mustang replied, with a pointed look at Edward, who gave a groan of complaint about the lectures he was sure to get for his tale. Hawkeye looked surprised, and it took him a second to realize she still thought he was blind, but had caught the look all the same.

This sparked a point of interest, however, and she shepherded them all to the hospital to be looked at, despite Ling's protests that there was just about no way he could have been injured. He finally went along with it, as Izumi pointed out for the sake of saving time that Edward could explain things there.

Just as they set out towards the hospital, the ground rumbled as if there was an earthquake, and shortly after, the empty skied thundered from invisible lightning. Startled people shouted out, grabbing at each other to prevent themselves from falling down. Alphonse looked warily at the ground, worried about the angels and demons and Antichrist forgetting about the city of mortals above them. He glanced at his brother, looking for reassurance, but Ed just gave him a gesture that said he had no clue what they were going to do.

On that cheerful note, they continued on their way to the hospital. Hawkeye checked them in, firmly keeping all of them there and not wandering outside. After almost an entire hour of nurses fussing over them, they were finally able to all reconvene in Edward's room, just in time to grab him and haul him back inside after he tried to escape. Hohenheim tried to slip out as well, but Edward caught him and snapped that if the teen had to stay, so did he.

"Okay, start from the beginning," Izumi finally said when everyone was settled and prepared to listen. "And keep in mind to fill us in on things we don't know about."

Edward gave a defeated sigh, and started the tale. At the beginning, Mustang helped explain the multiple world concept, but after that he remained silent. Hohenheim also came in when the story came to the biblical, as he knew more about some of it then his son did. When he got to the part during which Aziraphale had gathered everybody together, it occurred to him that he would have to repeat all of this to Winry and Pinako at their request, but he kept that to himself.

By the time he was done, even with his shortened version, he was tired. A few more questions came in, which he answered, but through luck nobody had thought of where he had been sleeping, a fact he had eluded while he spoke. None of them seemed to have noticed this yet, and hopefully never would.

"Did you get to the part about where you were sleeping yet?" Crowley asked from the doorway. Behind him, Aziraphale waved. Edward's head fell into his hands, as Alphonse stood up and thanked Aziraphale. He gave a brief round of introductions, and Aziraphale, merely going through it as a courtesy even though they already knew, introduced himself and Crowley.

Ling turned back to Ed. "What is this about sleeping?"

"Nothing," he tightly responded, and gave a warning look to Crowley, who smirked like the demon he was. The angel looked a bit puzzled about the word choice, but didn't speak.

"Oh, really?" Crowley responded.

"You can't leave it alone can you?"

"I was merely pointing out a fact you forgot to mention."

"I'm sure that was all you were trying to accomplish."

"This is why I don't do good things; everybody always gets so skeptical."

"If you did good things more often, people wouldn't be so skeptical every time," Aziraphale noted.

"I'm a demon!" Crowley protested. "If I did good things more often, I'd wind up in Hell for it, and not for a promotion."

Before the debate could continue, four of the humans interrupted with a repeated inquiry about the oldest teen's sleeping habits in England. He promptly ignored them, and the demon smiled at an easy job done well.

Finally, Edward turned the competition to the other two, and said, "How did things turn out?"

Aziraphale gave a small shrug. "Things were sorted out how they supposed to be sorted out. The souls shouldn't be getting mixed up anymore, we hope. Everything was resolved-"

"But that probably won't last all too long," Crowley added. "All in all, things should be going well for the next... oh, ten years. And then there will be some breakdown that we'll have to get cleaned up, but as of right now everything's good to go."

Aziraphale glanced at a clock on the wall. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry, but we need to be going. Adam isn't going to wait long, and we should leave now if we want to get to him so we can get home..." Crowley peered at the clock, which suddenly broke. Little trails of smoke curled out of it.

"It was nice to meet you," Alphonse said, and waved at them as the two departed.

After a minute's silence in their wake, Mei said, "That was interesting."

* * *

><p><em>{Do you still believe in all the things that you stood by before?<br>Are you out there on the front lines, or at home keeping score?  
><em>_Do you care to be the layer of the bricks that seal your fate?  
>Or would you rather be the architect of what we might create?<em>

_Don't you remember when you were young, and how you wanted to set the world on fire?  
><em>_Somewhere deep down, I know you do  
>And don't you remember when we were young, and how we wanted to set the world on fire?<br>'Cause I still am, and I still do_

_Make no mistake, we are not afraid to bear the burden of repeating,  
><em>_What they're thinking anyway  
><em>_Let's raise the stakes on the bet we made  
><em>_Let's decide to be the architects, the masters of our fate} _

* * *

><p>*Such as the chaos of the office room Mustang and his subordinates used. But even to her best abilities, such things were still disarrayed. They were getting somewhere with it, though.<p>

Alright, _now_ it's done. Remember, people, equivalent exchange!

For whatever reason, I keep getting reviews from people who _have not read Good Omens. _ As a result, I will give you this bio on it: It was a book written by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett about Armageddon. An angel, Aziraphale, and a demon, Crowley, had become the kind of friends who are only such because they have more in common with their close enemies than their distant allies. They get messages from Up There and Down Below about the Antichrist's arrival, but by the time the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are supposed to ride out, they realize the child who they thought was the Antichrist, had actually been switched with another one because of the clumsiness of the Sisters of the Chattering Order. It's a really funny book, and if you liked these two chapters, please read it.


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